"When you reach the end of your rope...

tie a knot, and hang on." Thomas Jefferson

All weekend Fiancé and I worked on wedding stuff: we finally chose a reception site, checked out the driving route to the church, and created a wedding website. It's all great stuff. But, it's starting to feel like exhausting stuff. Mostly when things go wrong. Like when the website program times you out and you lose all your unsaved work, or when people email complaining about a date which they, incidentally, were complicit in choosing. It doesn't help that it's a rainy Monday. When Fiancé and I have talked today (several times via telephone to hash out last minute details, contracts, etc.) our voices sound hallow. We're a team, but we're an overworked team at the moment, and it's hard to keep the relationship at the forefront when there are so many things vying for that position.


Oops, I did it again

So the Britney/Paris/Lindsay set has been criticized many times over for getting out of a car in a mini skirt and flashing their whoha because 1) they can't get out of a car with their legs closed and 2) knowing this they still don't bother to wear any underwear. I'm certainly not saying they're above criticism, but I must say that for the past two days I've worn short skirts to work, and have flashed the empty parking garage as I tried to climb out of my giant sized luxury rental. Granted, I was wearing underwear and no one cares enough to take my picture, but it made me think, just for a second, that maybe it's easier than we all think to make that mistake.


Secret agent Elle

Yesterday I had to change my Telcom password. Our Telcom department makes us change our voicemail system password with ridiculous frequency. I'm not actually important enough for anyone to want to break into my voicemail. Neither are most of the people who call to leave me messages. Nonetheless, every month we need to pick a new password, and our system is so iron clad that it won't let you reuse a previous password... ever. And there are so many rules that most meaningful permutations are rejected. That's twelve random passwords I need to come up with over the course of one year. Fat chance I'm gonna remember twelve separate passwords.

Right now my phone is flashing its voicemail notification light. It's mocking me. The system has already locked me out, since I tried too many times to guess my newest password. Telcom is closed for the night so I'm outta luck, as is whoever called and left the message in the first place. The real kicker is that Telcom is going to charge me $25 for having to reset my password tomorrow.


It's a train wreck, and you can't make yourself look away...

I just spent the past hour getting sucked into the message boards on TheNest.com. Two of my married girlfriends told me about these entertaining message boards at a dinner party on Friday night. That's right ladies - you know who you are. That hour is lost forever.


So nice outside!!!

I know the warm days are numbered, but they're fabulous.

We just had a picnic!



Finally, spring weather!

Friday was a great day, with warm temps and a balmy night. Yesterday was the same. And today it's been lovely - Fiancé and I opted to walk home from church this morning!

Today is the annual Greek festival outside on the Common. As I write this, I can hear people laughing and shouting, and Greek music wafts up through the windows. It's unbelievably annoying, but in a really nice way :)


In the grand scheme of things

I suppose if my biggest problem today is finding a decent strapless bra before the warm weather hits, I should consider myself lucky. It's just hard to remember that sometimes.


In the water, in the air

April is always a time when life on college campuses gets a little nutty. Mostly because the students on college campuses get a little nutty. They're bogged down with work, stressed about finals, and excited about whatever promises the summer holds. So they go crazy. And as college staff, we're bombarded with the work brought about as a result of said craziness.

I wish I could share some of the stories with you. Because this stuff makes for some very entertaining stories. Unfortunately, that'd be inappropriate.

May 2nd can't come soon enough. I believe that sentiment is shared by many at EC.



We're getting married on November 24th (2007)!





"... Street cleaning, no parking on even sides of the road, you will be tagged and towed. Street cleaning, no parking..."




I get the house all to myself for the next week and a half!

After which I will never get the house to myself again for my entire life, because I'll have my roommate back and then I'll be married.

The only thing muting my ecstasy is the fact that I'm scared to sleep alone in the house.

That might be a bit problematic.

I'm also scared to go down to the basement to do laundry, but I have enough underwear to make it through so don't you worry about that.


And... I'm up

"... Street cleaning, no parking on odd sides of the road, you will be tagged and towed. Street cleaning, no parking..."

This coming from the loud speakers on the vehicle that drives up and down every street, announcing street cleaning for those of us who were stupid enough to forget.

I bolted upright in bed, eyes wide. Shit shit shit.

(Cambridge tows, so my terror was legitimate.)

With no available parking on the even side of the street, I had no choice. I got ready for work today in under three minutes. And I was out the door.

I don't think I officially woke up until I hit the Boston Common parking garage.


Left holding the detonator

With all the sadness and confusion surrounding the Virginia Tech shootings, I can't help but wonder why there's such a focus on the administration's handling of the situation. I understand that lives could have been saved. But that's always the case with hindsight. We could always go back and do something different to create a better outcome, if only we'd known.

It reminds me of the circuit board debacle in Boston, when folks rained down criticism on the BPD for "overreacting." Overreacting or under reacting - take your pick. I'm with the BPD - knowing our current climate, err on the side of wasting tax payer money.

There are actual examples of mishandling crisis situations. For instance, New Orleans. But there are also situations where the only thing that could have led to a better resolution would have been a fast forward/rewind button.

Not every single incident shooting leads to a mass casualty. Can we really know when it will before it does? Is the problem the response, or the fact that something so f*cked up happened to begin with?


The space between

This weekend was a whirlwind of errands and work. This week will be a whirlwind of wedding reception site visits and final decisions. Next weekend's schedule is already full.

When does it slow down?

Last night Fiancé worked late. I tried to wait up for him, but fell asleep about an hour before he made it home. This morning I saw him for about 10 minutes.

It's weird - we've been spending a lot of time together lately. But I miss him. We're always busy, and suddenly our lives include so many other people. I miss when it was just us. I guess that's the reward for the wedding though. Years of just us, if we can only get through six months of everyone and everything else.


It's not what you eat, but how you eat it, that counts

I just had a cup of Ben & Jerry's frozen yogurt, a 1/2 of a fudge brownie, another 1/4 of a fudge brownie, and another 1/4 of a fudge brownie after that. I maintain that this does not equal one whole brownie because it was eaten in stages.


Something you may not know about me

I really like the new Carrie Underwood song Before He Cheats. I like any song that can work 'Louisville slugger' into the lyrics.


A comfortable lap to sit on


I didn't even know I was missing out on it.

We have a rental car this week because our Honda is in the shop (repairs from the accident, but we don't talk about the accident). It's some kind of Pontiac, which didn't thrill me when I first heard about it. I mean, who drives a Pontiac? But we got an upgrade because they didn't have any lesser vehicles on hand. So here we are, with this giant silver fully equipped Grand Prix.

I love our Honda. It's a standard, so it's peppy and fun to drive. It's small, so you can weasel in between things and into tight parking spaces. And it's more us. We're a casual kind of people.

But my commute in this morning was lovely, I can't lie. No hassle with shifting in traffic, no clutch foot necessary, I couldn't feel the bumps in the road. It was a smooth drive, fit for a lazy person. I had nothing to do but steer. When I was at a light by the movie theater I checked out what was showing. I had time to look at the cars around me, and at the scenery as I passed. I never realized shifting took so much concentration! I could have applied makeup, if I were so inclined to bother wearing makeup to work. I could have called someone. I could have multitasked A LOT with a the newfound freedom of an entire hand and foot.

The rental is not me. I know that. I wouldn't like to drive it forever. It feels... boring. Unchallenging. But even though it's not my thang, it sure is nice to pretend for a little while.


Could swing either way

This morning I sat for my TTS exam (to be certified for tobacco cessation counseling). I was the last one in, and the first one out. Is that good or bad?


We have to work harder

I was changing today at the locker room in my gym when a group of little girls, fresh out of the pool, took over the area. They were cute, even though they were dripping everywhere.

As I was tying my shoes, I noticed that they were all attempting to change out of their bathing suits and into their clothes while still covering themselves with their towels. Their coach came over and said, "You know, girls, you can go change in a shower stall if you're really uncomfortable. But, at some point you have to say 'This is me, accept me for who I am, I'm beautiful'. You have to love your body."

I smiled at the woman. What a great coach. I liked her comment.

But then the newfound optomism I had for a generation of girls raised to resist societal pressure and actually treasure their bodies went up in smoke. A tiny little girl looked up and said, "Except for fat parts."

She's seven.



I haven't taken any medicine for my cold (this time I'm seriously sick, not the kind of *sick* I was when I snuck out to the movies with J a few weeks ago). I keep forgetting that I haven't taken any medicine though, and when I feel funny/dizzy/nauseous I keep thinking, "Oh, that must be a side effect of the medicine." Then I remember I haven't taken any medicine. And then I go lie down.


I'll tell you where you can stick your fluoride treatment

I went to the dentist this morning and can I just say OUCH. Holy sh*t! It really hurt. My hygienist was super nice, but a little rough with the scraper thingie. My teeth now feel smooth as marble but I honestly had tears in my eyes as she was de-plaquing them.

As she wielded her mini pick ax, I sat quietly in the chair. I didn't tell her she was hurting me. I believe steadfastly in my 'no pain no gain' mantra. If you want results, you have to suffer for them. In almost anything: work, exercise, beauty (come on, those of you who endure the infamous bikini wax can't tell me you don't subscribe), relationships. But what I'm left wondering in this particular scenario is, am I really the better for the added discomfort? Are my teeth somehow cleaner? Brighter? Shinier? Healthier? Probably not. I guess what I'm realizing is that my mantra has its limits, and those don't extend down Mass Ave and through the door of Dr. Piskor's dental office.

My teeth still throb. I don't think teeth are supposed to throb. I don't think you're supposed to feel your teeth. I feel my teeth. OUCH.


B is for...

On a commercial for Nutrisystem for Men:

“My wife says I’m not as disgusting to her as I used to be!”

I hate to break it to you after all your weight loss efforts, but the pudge might not have been your biggest problem, friend.


Chillin' in backwoods Maine

I like UMaine Orono. Right now I’m in the Student Union waiting for my student to finish a session so we can hit the road. I’m in a comfy cushy chair with my feet up watching a remake of Steven King’s The Shining on the SciFi channel on a huge mounted flat screen tv. There’s a cafeteria down the hall, with a makeshift Starbucks (essentially worthless) and institution-style pudding (my favorite, don’t ask me why). What a great place to hang out.

They really shouldn’t have done a remake of The Shining. As a general rule, no room for improvement when Jack Nicholson is involved in the original product. Plus they replaced the ax with a mallet – not the same effect when he’s breaking through the bedroom door.

When I was in high school, I went to an independent theatre that was showing The Shining on the big screen – it was fabulously scary.